A Casual WoW Blog by a Hardcore Raider and RP Enthusiast

[RP] The Filthy Animal Inn

After having lost Idara and Malignant to the plague, they traveled to Moonglade where the Druids were holding the last safe heaven in Azeroth. There they made plans to join the forces heading into Northrend, but as they were about to launch their attack upon the Lich King, reports of the greatest Scourge invasion yet reached them. And so they fought. They fought to defend their homes. They fought for the right to live their lives in peace. But mostly they fought to avenge their beloved ones who were now forever lost.

Shortly thereafter, Masque fell ill. It turned out he too had been infected by the plague, though it devoured him much slower then many of the others, his Undead body having proved more resistant. It was a slow and painful thing to watch, but watch she did. She spent every day by his side lending him strength when she herself had none. Pouring hope into his ear where she herself felt she was beyond all hope, watching him grow ever weaker until he one day did not stir again. She stayed with him for another day and night after his passing- saying her goodbyes, vowing to take revenge and making plans.

Then she went off to face the Lich King and his minions – a woman with no hopes and dream, no joy or tears – just a numbed soul and an iron determination of vengeance.

That was then.

Sitting in The Filthy Animal Inn at one of the long tables she watched the people around her. Adventurers and mercenaries brought here by fates similar to hers or the promise of fame and fortune were coming and going. She had hoped for the chance of a quite meal, but it was starting to become evident that this was not going to be it. Too many people were crowded by the door where Innkeeper Uda was trying to sort out how many beds she had left to offer for the night. She would not have room for them all, so some would surely be forced to turn to the Sewers Inn. Despite its dampness and shady location, it was still better then sleeping in the gutter facing the frigid Northrend nights outdoors.

None of them had expected the cold when they stormed the continent driven by rage and pain. It had a life of its own, making its way in under your clothes, chilling you to the bones. Not even the dwarfs were used to this kind of weather.

A thud startled her and she woke up from her thoughts to see her stew had been served. It had been a long day spent hunting shoveltusk for meat and doing odd jobs to pay all the bills. Chilled and hungry she turned her attention to the task at hand. She ate systematically, knowing that the warmth would strengthen her and relax her stiff muscles. It seemed like this cursed continent slowly froze your soul and made the life leech out of you. She could not remember the last time she had felt warm and she felt that no food or spirits would ever warm her up again. She was just so cold. So cold and tired that she simply could not bring herself to feel things anymore.

There was a time when she had raged like the fires of the Blackrock Mountains, swearing vengeance on the Lich King for the pain he had caused her. There was a time when she had cried endless tears into her pillow, her heart aching for all those she had lost. There were no tears left to cry, no fire to warm her soul, all she had left was the promise she had made to her companion, to one day avenge him.

Having finished her dinner, she waved over one of the Barmaids and ordered a pint of cheap beer that she spiced with some Moonshine she had bought off of a shady character down in the sewer district. Hopefully, she would get some sleep tonight and if she washed down the whole bottle of Moonshine she might even be able to escape those horrible dreams from which she invariably woke up screaming to the displeasure of the Inn’s other residents.

With her back against the wall, watching the flames in the fireplace lick the logs, she sunk back into her thoughts. As the flow of people grew thinner and the noise died down she eventually fell asleep aided by the drunken haze brought on by the alcohol she had consumed.

This time she managed to escape the dreams, but morning greeted her with a thundering headache and a bitter taste in her mouth as she woke up stiff on the bench were she had dozed off the night before.

@esdras I usually write my posts from the character’s perspective as well, this was my first venture at a storyteller approach and it was a lot of fun to write. I think the advantage of writing like this, is that it is easier to relay the feelings and view you want the reader to have of your character, then if the story is written as if told by the character him- or herself.

But I think ultimately it’s nice to mix it up, try it all until you see what you like and find your own style.